Looking Back
by LuxaTheUnderlander
Summary: This is another of those gnawer POV stories, with our little Twitchy as the protagonist. It follows her all through her life, including all the important events mentioned in the series.
1. Puphood

**Looking Back: Twitchtip's Life**

**Here is a story of mine I've been meaning to release for a while. It's a story of Twitchtip's life in her POV. Hope you like!**

**Disclaimer: If you haven't guessed yet, TUC id not mine. And tossing an endless number of pennies into fountains is not going to transfer it to my possession. Thank you.**

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I never really knew how my life turned out the way it did, but looking back, I realize that I have been through a lot more than your usual gnawer.

My mother and father were well known gnawers, and were treated with respect. My mother, Preenpaw, was the most beautiful gnawer I've ever seen, with a lovely rusty red coat and black eyes with flecks of gold in them. I always adored her.

My father, Ripper, was never around much. He was a general in King Gorger's army, and only stopped in with the occasional crawler carcass for my mother. I barely even knew him. He didn't care much for my siblings and I, he had eyes for my mother. Their relationship was strong, but it had the occasional fight. It wasn't as bad as a couple in the next cave, who fought daily, sometimes injuring each other worse than I could ever imagine.

There was nothing that comforted me more than the sound of my mother's voice, calmly soothing my siblings and I to sleep, or else calling to us after hunting and finding some fish. I loved to curl close to her and hear her tell us stories, sometimes about the Garden of Hesperides which I desperately wanted to visit some day, or about her days as a pup, exploring our home, the Labyrinth. I loved them all.

I was close to my two sisters and brother, but I still demanded personal space. I couldn't stand not having a little time alone. I also got very jealous when my mother gave them more attention than she gave to me, and I butted in. They never really minded much, though.   
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"Swiftstep! Striker! Silvertoes! Twitchtip! I have some food!" that was my mother, coming into the cave. At once my siblings and I went ballistic. It had been harder now to find food, since the humans I have learned to hate took away two of our most important fishing grounds. Even though I was only a month old, I still completely understood the concept of human-hating. As my father said, 'the humans are our enemies, everything they do is against our favor, and they make living a peaceful life seemingly impossible!'. That was one of the only things he said to us when he came to call. My mother always tried to keep an open mind about things, but I could tell she didn't like the humans much either, by the way her lips twitched every time they were mentioned.

"I smell it, I smell it!" I said, spinning in a circle. I didn't know why, but I always smelled the food first, sometimes even when she was still deep in the Labyrinth, far from our cave. I could even smell what she brought, too.

"It's fish! There's ten of them, two for each of us!" I said excitedly.

Swiftstep, one of my sisters, looked at me strangely. "How do you always know that?" she asked.

"I don't know." I said.

In a moment, we heard her swift footsteps coming towards our cave. Then she appeared in the entrance, with, sure enough, five fish in her mouth and five on her back. We all jumped onto her, and, pulling two fish from her for each of us, ate like maniacs.

My mother ate slowly, watching and smiling at us eating like we had never tasted food before. It was always that way. My mother put us before herself, and that was why I loved her so much.  
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We were just settling down to sleep. I was curled in the nape of my mother's neck, closest to her head, the way I liked it. My siblings were all around me, already asleep. I, however, wasn't.

"Tell me another story." I said.

"What shall it be this time?"' she asked. She never refused to tell me one, no matter how late it was.

"About the garden of Hesperides. Please." I said.

And my mother began one of her famous stories, this one about eating her first golden apple from the trees. She described the juiciness of it all, the burst of flavor when she bit into it, and the satisfaction she had when she swallowed it. She said that she had been allowed to have as many as she wanted, since there were so many of them. I could almost smell the savory goodness of it, and the urge to go to the Garden and taste one became even stronger. I was tempted to make my mother take me there now, but I knew it was out of the question, not when we were just settling down to sleep.

When she had finished, I nestled my head in her warm neck. "Thank you." I said. She nuzzled me.

"You are welcome, but now it is time to sleep. Rest well, Twitchtip." she cooed, resting her head on the ground. I did the same, and, sniffing her sweet smelling fur, drifted off to sleep.


	2. Twirltongue

When I awoke, there was a peculiar smell in the air. It smelled of argument, argument like I had never heard it before.

My mother and siblings were still fast asleep. I tried to sleep as well, but my curiosity got the better of me. I slipped out of the warmth of my mother's body and stole over to the cave entrance.

I strained my ears to hear what was going on. A few caves down, there was some sort of shouting match occurring between two gnawers. I didn't know how, but I could smell the anger between them.

"She is far to sneaky! This pup could lead to the death of us!" a gnawer, it sounded like a male, said.

"Yes, but she does not deserve to be let out by herself! She is our pup!" a female disagreed.

"She stole our food! There is no other punishment! The gnawers are being starved, and she takes from us so that she can have more? It is not right!" the male argued.

"But she is ours." the female persisted.

I was beginning to get interested. What kind of pup would steal from the rest of their family, especially at a time like this? I wanted to find out.

It was as if the answer to her question had been just waiting to make its appearance. A beautiful silvery pup came stealing out of the cave, looked around, and saw me. Her eyes widened, and she turned the other way.

"Wait!" I cried. The moment I did it, I wanted to take it back. This pup was perceived as a thief, why would I want to talk to her? What if she stole from my family too? But again, I was to curious.

The pup stopped in her tracks and turned around. She cocked her head quizzically, but came toward me anyway.

"Greetings." the pup said. Her voice was astonishing, it was a low, sneaky, persuasive droll. Twitchtip admired it immediately.

"Hello. I'm Twitchtip." I said. My gray-brown coat was nothing compared to her sparkling silver one.

"Twirltongue." she said, regarding me suspiciously. "Why did you stop me?" she asked.

"You really stole from your parents?" I blurted out before I could stop myself.

"Well, I had too. They were feeding my siblings more than I, and I am a growing pup. I need food." she said. I was mystified by her voice.

"Oh." I said.

"You can never trust family. The only reason they're there is because they have to be, if they had the choice, they would stalk off, leaving you alone to fend for yourself." Twirltongue said. The way she said it, I could hardly not believe it.

"Really?" I asked, eyes wide.

"Yes. That is why I am going to run away. You should come. Please?" she said. Her voice was just so...persuasive, it really made me want to come with her. But there was some kind of suspicious scent around her, like the one that always obscured my father. I didn't know what to say.

"I don't know." I said. "But I got to go. My mother doesn't know I'm awake yet."

"Okay, well, get back to me about it." she said, and stole off. I was stunned.

I went back to my cave. My mother and siblings were awake.

"Twitchtip, where were you?" My mother demanded. She looked worried. I hated worrying her.

"Just stretching my legs. Sorry, mother." I apologized. I went over to her to get my breakfast milk.

I had gotten my first taste of Twirltongue.


	3. A Battle

Mother was hunting. My siblings and I were playing a game of, "chase each other around until you get close enough to tackle". My brother, Striker, was always the best at tackling, but my sisters, Swiftstep and Silvertoes, were best at running. I just played along for fun.

I had denied Twirltongue's offer to go away with her. She agreed, but there was something that told me our paths would cross again.

She had left about two days after I denied her. We heard a shout as her mother woke up and found her gone. She, my mother, and all of the rest of the gnawers searched for her, but she was long gone. Part of me was sad I hadn't gone with her on her little adventure, but the other part was saying, "good riddance". The smell of suspicion around her had been getting stronger each time I saw her. It was now three months later.

Striker had just jumped on top of Silvertoes when I smelled it. A horrible scent was coming closer and closer. "'Do you smell that?" I asked my siblings.

"Smell what?" Striker asked.

"You know you have a way better nose than we do." Swiftstep said matter-of-factly. She was the oldest, and liked to think she knew everything.

"It's...it's..." I knew exactly what it was, but I was too scared to say it. I waited a minute longer to see if my siblings showed any signs of smelling it as well, but when they didn't, I told them. "It's humans!" I said. "There's a lot of them, and they're angry!" I said fearfully. Their eyes widened. We all got closer to each other. 

"Are they with fliers?" Swiftstep asked.

"Yes!" I said, and began squeezing my tail in fright. But suddenly, a much stronger, warmer smell filled my nostrils. Mother was back! Mother!

I rushed to the cave entrance. Sure enough, my mother was coming at a run from the opposite end of the tunnel. without thinking, I ran to her, and she scooped me up onto her back and ran to our cave. She huddled my brother and sisters together.

"What's happening?" I asked fearfully.

"I went to the Garden of Hesperides to get some apples for you pups, but as I neared it I heard shouts and squeals. A few gnawers who had escaped rushed by me and said the humans had flooded the garden! I ran all the way back to you, as fast as I could!" she said, panting.

The garden was flooded. I would never get the chance to go there now, and eat the golden apples. I would never get to rest in the caves surrounding it or play with my siblings in such a beautiful place. Never.

"But what about the humans that are coming here?" Silvertoes asked, eyes wide.

My mother looked puzzled, then fearful. "What humans are coming here?"

"Twitchtip says that a bunch of angry humans are coming to attack us, on fliers!" Swiftstep said.

'My mother turned to me. "How do you know that?" she asked.

"I can smell them!" I said.

My mother paused and held her nose in the air. Then her expression turned anxious. I can smell humans and fliers, but I certainly can't tell that they're angry." she said.

"Well, they are! I just know it!" I said. I slammed my paws over my nose in disgust. The humans smelled horrible!

"Come, quick!" my mother said. She led us to the back of our cave and moved a small stone slab that I had never noticed before. A small den was hidden behind it, one my mother probably could only just fit in, and my father most certainly could not.

"This is our hideaway den. Stay in here, no one will find you." she said. I began to protest, but she quieted me. "You must." she said.

My siblings and I huddled in the small den. We heard, faintly, the sounds of a bloody battle outside. There were screams and squeaks and screeches. My nose smelled a bunch of species--human, gnawer, and flier--mixed together, but all I could think about was my mother. If she died, what would happen to us?


	4. Scent Seer

Suddenly, the boulder was moved and my mother appeared. She was nursing a cut on her shoulder blade and some minor scratches, but was otherwise unharmed. I was so relieved to see her alive.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Apparently the humans who had sent the soldiers to the garden sent some to the Labyrinth as well. We managed to kill most of them, and the rest we drove out." my mother answered.

"Oh, good." I said. I took a sniff. the stench of humans had nearly disappeared, there was only a little lingering on my mother.

"Oh, yes, Twitchtip, that reminds me. I have a suspicion about your smelling skill, but we must test it first. How is the rat, Blackblood, in the next cave feeling? "my mother asked.

"Who's Blackblood? I've never heard of him, or seen him." I asked.

"Never mind that, just sniff." my mother said.

I took a big whiff. Immediately I smelled the gnawer my mother had been speaking of. I immediately smelled exhaustion on him, and, in some way, I picked up his looks as well.

"He is very tired. I can also tell you that his fur color is a smoky gray-black, but his left front paw is red." I said proudly. My siblings looked at me in amazement, but my mother smiled.

"I knew it! You're a Scent-Seer, Twitchtip, a Scent-Seer!" she said, grabbing my claws in hers and swinging me around.

"Yay! I'm a Scent-Seer, a Scent-Seer, a Scent-Seer!" I said, smiling as well. "What's a Scent-Seer?" I asked, my expression turning to puzzlement. My mother laughed.

"Scent-Seers are extremely rare. They can smell every emotion, quantities of things, and what things are just by sniffing. You can do all of them, and you can detect color as well! You are most definately a Scent-Seer!" she explained.

My sister Swiftstep gave a grunt. "Humphh." she said.

"What is wrong, Swiftstep?" my mother asked her.

"I want to be a Scent-Seer! I want to be special!" she pouted, sticking her nose in the air, whiskers twitching. But my mother never got to respond to that, because my father entered the cave.

His deep gray coat was flecked with blood, but he looked no more than scratched. "I came to see if you were okay, Preenpaw." he said, walking over to my mother.

"We are all fine, love." she said, wrapping her tail around him. "You will never beleive what we have just discovered, though." she said, smiling.

"What?" he asked, puzzled.

"Our Twitchtip is a Scent-Seer!" my mother said, smiling.

My father still looked puzzled. "Twitchtip?" he said.

My mother sighed. "Our pup, Ripper." she said, gesturing her tail in my direction. I sighed. My father was nice and all, but he never really had time for anyone in my family except my mother. It was to be expected that he would momentarily forget my name.

"Oh. yes. Twitchtip. What did you say she was?" he said. Apparently he had become forgetful lately.

"A Scent-Seer." said my mother.

It took a moment for my father to register this fact, but then he looked shocked? "Really?" he asked, staring at me.

"Show him, Twitchtip." said my mother.

"Okay." I held my nose in the air and sniffed. "Flamefur the gnawer is coming down the hall. Her fur is a deep reddish color, and she is carrying three fish." I said. I looked expectantly at my father.

"Well, I guess she is." he said.

"Yes." said my mother. 

"Well, I'd better be off. Gorger is in need of patrols in the North Side of the Labyrinth, and I offered. Just stopped in to see that you were okay." my father said, making for the cave entrance.

"Goodbye, then." my mother said.

"Oh, yes, I will be around tomorrow to take the children out for a lesson. It is time they learned to hunt." my father said, and went out. 

"We're going to learn to hunt tomorrow?" I asked. I wasn't sure how I felt about hunting, but I knew I had to try it. 

"Yes, dear. Now, I think all of you had better go to sleep. According to your father, you have a long day tomorrow. Hunting lessons take time." my mother said. We all settled down beside her to sleep.


	5. Hunting with Father

"Okay, now, the first thing you must do is spot your prey."

My father had come to take us for a lesson just after we woke up. We were all hungry, but he said we would get plenty of food on our little outing. 

We were on the border that separated our lands from the crawler lands. My father had deemed crawlers a good place to start, because they were not all that fast and tasted even better than fish. We would do twisters another time, since they can easily wriggle out of ones grasp.

My father was in a ready position; low to the ground, back hunched, shoulders up, ready to spring. We were behind a fairly large rock, with a bunch of crawlers fishing at a river directly in front of us.

"Next, you creep forward, staying low. Be strong and silent." he said. He crept forward, following his own instructions. He darted behind another rock as soon as one came up.

"Now, keep focused on your target, and, quick as a flash," he rushed forward like lightning and grabbed the shell of a small crawler, pulling it back with him, "you grab your prey, and crush it."

He had gone so quick that none of the crawlers had really noticed one had dissapear. How dumb were they?

He tossed the carcass off to the side. "We'll eat them later. Now only one each, we don't want to wipe out the entire population of crawlers." he said sarcastically. We laughed silently.

"I wanna go! I wanna go!" Striker said.

"Okay, pup, remember your ready position." my father said to him. Striker got into the perfect ready position, as usual, and prepared to strike. Almost as fast as my father, he leeaped forward and grabbed himself a crawler. He had taken from a group of babies crowded near their mother. My sisters and I would probably get the babies too, it would be easier for up.

"Good job, son." my father said. "Swiftstep, now you." 

Swiftspep was less perfect, the baby slipped from her grasp once, and she had to get it again. But she got it eventually. 

Silvertoes went next. She missed the crawler on her first try, but got it on the second. A few of the adults had noticed, this time. I would have to go fast.

As I moved closer, the stench of crawlers filled my nose. It was terribly strong, and I didn't much like it. I was tempted to throw my paw over my nose to block out the smell, but I knew that if I wanted to satisfy my father, I couldn't. 

Finally, I was within pouncing distance. I leapt forward, and, much to my surprise, managed to latch my claws on an unsuspecting baby crawler! I pulled back. The crawler wiggled, but I crushed its head before it could move much. I hadn't done as good as my father or Striker, but I had done okay.  
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"Fishing," my father was saying, "Is easier, if you know what to do."

We were back at a river in our own terittory. Since we had only spent about three hours on the crawlers, father decided that we had enough time to practice fishing.

We were in the center of the river. There were a few other gnawers around, but most had already done their fishing for the day. We were all in standing positions; my back paws were tickled as the smaller fish nipped them.

"Now, all you must do is spear a fish with your second claw," father held out his claw as an example, "and you have it."

He speared an unsuspecting fish with his claw and pulled it up. It was fairly large and extremely scaly. It looked tasty. Father tossed it onto the near riverbank.

This time, we could all try at the same time, because the fish always came back. They were even stupider than the crawlers!

I missed my first three tries, but on the fourth, I managed to spear a small grayish one! I pulled it up and took a bite out of it right away.

"Mmmm." I said. My siblings were all trying their fish, too. This river had by far the tastiest fish I'd ever had, or maybe it was just the satisfaction of catching it myself.

We caught more and more fish, all of the ones in our area. I liked fishing much better than hunting; it was easier to do and involved less movement.

Suddenly, my nose practically exploded! I smelled a really large fish, a little ways down the river. I hopped out onto the riverbank and crept down. Finally, a saw a silver glint in the water, a big one! There was a nice fish, at least two feet long, there! I ducked down and managed to grab it in my claws. It wriggled, but I continuously poked it with my sharpest claw, and after a short while without water, it died. I ran back to my father and siblings with it.

"All right, Twitchtip!" Striker shouted when he saw it. He jumped on top of me, and we started another game of chase-and-tackle.

I was focused on the game, but as my father watched us, I smelled a different smell on him, one I had only ever smelled on my mother. Love.


	6. A Rude Awakening

As the months went by, I was more and more respected by the labyrinth gnawers. My Scent-seeing abilities intrigued everyone, and they all just had to get a taste of it. I often craved solitude, but I kind of liked all the attention. I was happy.

But the real source of my happiness was my father. I think he thought I was finally worth a damn, now that I had some amazing power. It annoyed me a bit that he was only just realizing it, but all the same, I cherished his company.

He took us hunting often, and we came back with loads of fish, crawlers, and twisters for my mother. He hung around our cave more as well. I felt like I actually had a family.  
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"Hey, Twitchtip!" someone called my name. I was ten months old now, nearly full-grown. I had been sparring with my brother, Striker, in an empty cave.

I swung around and saw Rasper, a pup around my age who I had talked to a few times. "What?" I asked.

"What did I just have to eat?" he asked, smirking.

"Oh, c'mon, Rasper." I protested.

"Just sniff." he said. 

"Fine." I sniffed. Immediately I smelled fish, not from the River, but from the Waterway. I was surprised. Us gnawers didn't normally fish in the Waterway, only our rivers.

"Well?" he said, tapping his paw.

"You had fish, from the Waterway." I said. He nodded. "How did you get them?" 

"My father did. He was patrolling around the area, and couldn't resist the urge to bring some fish to my mother and I!" Rasper said, in a slightly smug tone.

"Whatever." I said. I didn't have time for this. I began to walk back to our cave, and Striker followed.

But that was when the trouble started.   
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When we neared the cave, at first I smelled nothing unusal. My mother's smell wasn't there, but I knew she was out hunting, anyway. But something was different. I didn't smell my sisters, and they had been there when Striker and I had left the cave.

My father was there, definitely. But he was with someone. And they were talking. I wanted to listen. I pulled Striker closer.

Of course, my ears being no better that the typical gnawer's ears, I couldn't make out every word. I heard things like, "don't" "couldn't" "had" "do", and "kill". Who had been killed? Was it the humans? Had they killed someone my father knew? I looked curiously at Striker, who shrugged.

I made out, "don't tell anyone," as the only full sentence I'd heard. But then someone came out of the cave. I recognized it as Reekwell, another of Gorger's generals. I hadn't known my father was friendly with him. Apparently, neither did Striker.

"Dad knows him?" he asked.

"I guess." I shrugged.

We waited a few more minutes before going in the cave, so father wouldn't think we'd been evesdropping. When we went in, I saw my father pacing the cave.

"Hi, father." I said. He looked up.

"Oh, hello Twitchtip. Hello Striker." he said.

"Where's Swiftstep and Silvertoes?" I asked.

His expression immediately turned twisted, but I didn't know why. "Umm, uh, weren't they out hunting with your mother?" he asked.

"No. They were here after she left." I said, looking at him quizzically.

"Oh, right. Then I don't know." he said. He began to go out of the cave, but before he did, I took a giant but silent sniff.

I smelled a mixture of emotions, anger, guilt, and one I associated with the term, "good riddance!". But I also smelled something else.

Words began running through my mind. "I had to kill them, they just weren't special or skilled enough, like Twitchtip and Striker. I couldn't call them my pups; they were just too embarassing." It took me a moment to realize that I was actually smelling my father's _thoughts_! So he had killed pups, _his_ pups, and if Striker and I were still alive, then he must have killed--

"Swiftstep and Silvertoes!" I cried aloud, causing Striker, who had apparently been sparring with his own tail, to look up at me.

"What about them?" he asked.

"Oh no. Oh no." I said.

"What?" Striker asked again.

"Dad killed them!" I cried. 

"_What_?" Striker asked, but this "what" was more one of surprise. "He couldn't have!"

"He did. I smelled his thoughts. He said they weren't as skilled or special as us!" I said, the realization that my sisters were dead by my father's paw sweeping over me. I gave an unexpected sob.

"That's insane!" Striker cried. He made for the cave entrance.

"Where are you going?" I asked him. 

"Well, we have to tell mother!" he said, as if it were completely obvious.

"We can't! Not yet." I said, rushing to stop him.

"Why _not_?" She can do something about it!" Striker said, struggling to free himself from my grasp.

"She can't bring them back if they're already dead! The only thing she'd do is try to fight father, and then she'll get herself killed!" I said. Striker stopped struggling.

"I guess you're right. But what should we do? We have to do _something!_" he said.

"Well, let's see if we can find their bodies, if he didn't dispose of them." I said.

They were in the first place we looked. I pulled back the stone that covered the entrance to our hidaway den, and the smell of blood and flesh obscured my nostrils it was horrible. 

Swiftstep's body was closest to the door, her light brown body covered in blood. But Silvertoes's silver-gray fur was not bloody; it looked like he had broken her neck. I couldn't stand seeing my sisters like that. I pulled the rock back over the hole.

"Well, I think we found them." Striker said. We both walked over to the far end of the cave.

"I can't believe dad did that." Striker said softly. I just nodded and hung my head. We both curled up and fell into an uneasy sleep, just wanting our sisters and waiting for mother.


	7. Alone

My life as a Scent-Seer had gone from great to terrible in a matter of hours.

Striker and I had not told mother about Swiftstep and Silvertoes, in fear of her starting a fight about it with dad and getting herself killed. But she was getting worried. She had "supposedly" sent my father out to look for them, and he hadn't returned since. I knew he wasn't looking at all.

However, that was not the worst part. I could now see into other gnawers' thoughts and discover their secrets, and those gnawers were starting to realize. Rasper was upset when I told him I knew about his love for Silkshine, a pretty female who lived by us. He tried to attack me, but Striker swiftly came to my defense.

I didn't know how to explain to Flamefur that I knew how she had stolen from another gnawer, but she was extremely angry with me, for a kind female gnawer. Striker suggested that I keep my nose to myself for a while.

Striker and I had gone from having a normal brother/sister relationship to being as close as that of best friends. It felt like we were all each other had, and we spent most of our time together, as far away from our father as possible. It was hard concealing the fact that our sisters were dead from our mother and preventing her from going into the hideaway den and seeing the decaying bodies. But we were in this together, and we had to do it, for the sake of our family.  
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Striker and I were just returning from a long hunting round in the jungle. We had caught a number of twisters and were excited about giving them to mother. The humans were starving us out even more now, so food was terribly scarce. We were overjoyed that we had managed to catch some. 

Suddenly, I smelled a bunch of gnawers gathered together, just paces from us. I stopped Striker. "Listen!" I hissed.

A deep voice was speaking. "We are here to discuss the matter of having a Scent-Seer in our midst." It was saying. My eyes widened. They were talking about _me_!

A new voice began to speak. "What is there to discuss?"

"She can sniff into our minds! She can discover our deepest secrets, just by taking a whiff of us! Have you not noticed what has been going on lately, here, in the Labyrinth?" the deep voice spoke again. Uh Oh. They were mad at me. But it wasn't my fault!

"She knew I had attacked a human when he was passing by on a flier!" a completely different voice said. That must have been Firefang.

"She knew that I had had an argument with my mate!" another voice cried. That must have been Prickpaw.

"She knows that I love…um, never mind." A voice I recognized as Rasper's said, trailing off towards the end. I would have laughed if I hadn't felt so hurt and unloved.

"The point is, our lives will be ruined if she stays with us! Our secrets are private, our lives belong to us, not that retched pup!" the deep voice returned.

Cries of "She must go!" pierced the air. I began to feel a different emotion. The sadness was slipping away. It was being replaced with anger.

Hateful, powerful anger, that made me want to run in there and rip them all to shreds, even though I knew it wasn't possible. I simply sat down, prepared to listen to their whole conversation, then face them like the adult gnawer I very soon would be.

But then I heard a loud cry of "No!"", but not from in the cave in which the meeting was being held. My mother was running down the tunnel, faster than I had ever seen her go. Her cry echoed through the cavern, and I knew the other gnawers had heard it as well.

She made a sharp turn into the cave, not even noticing Striker and I standing there, dumbstruck. I wanted to run into the shelter of her paws, but I knew that would only prevent her from fighting for my cause. I listened more.

"I will NOT permit you to send my Twitchtip away!" my mother shouted. I heard the deep-voiced gnawer growl.

"You have no idea how much trouble she's caused, Preenpaw." He said.

"So? It is not her fault that she can smell these things!" my mother cried. 

"I don't give a damn if it's her fault or not! The point is, she can do it and does, so she will have to go!" the other gnawer replied.

"Wait!" a different but familiar voice said. It was my father! I hadn't even realized he was there, and apparently, neither had my mother.

"Ripper?" she said softly. "Did you find Swiftstep and Silvertoes?"

I heard a loud but obviously fake sigh from my father. "No, I'm sorry, Preenpaw, but I didn't. They seem to have vanished." He said. My mother gave a sob.

But that was the last straw. I couldn't let my mother believe that he had actually tried to find them. It was time for her to learn the truth. I stomped into the cave.

"Well, of course he didn't find them; he wasn't even looking! _He_ killed them!" I shouted, facing my father. There were cries from the crowd of gnawers who saw me, but I didn't pay attention to them. I had eyes only for my filthy, lying father.

"You little devil, so you can smell secrets!" he roared, his face inches away from mine. But he backed away when my mother gasped.

"I mean, I did not! Why would I kill my own pups?" he said, trying to sound innocent. But the damage was done.

"Yes he did! If you go look in our hideaway den, mother, their bodies are there! I saw them myself!" I screamed. I heard only a few cries from the gnawers in the crowd. So apparently my father had told more rats than just Reekwell.

"How—could—you?" My mother snarled, stepping up to father.

"They were an embarrassment to our family!" He growled back.

"Even if that were true, which it isn't, any number of families would've taken them!" snarled my mother, stepping closer to him, claws flexed.

"They had to die! You would never have let that happen!" he said. 

"No—they—DIDN"T!" my mother roared. She pounced on top of him, slashing at every inch she could reach. I gasped, and so did the rest of the crowd.

"Mother, no!" I cried. 

"Twitchtip—do not—let them—kill you!" she cried. I sobbed into my paws.

My mother had the advantage of surprise on her side when the fight began, but my father was much bigger and stronger. She severed his ear and clawed his left eye, but before long, he had opened up a large cur on her calf, which was bleeding freely.

The next moments seemed to happen in slow motion. My mother took a swipe at my father but missed, and he took the moment to gorge my mother's throat out. She fell to the ground slowly, a look of utmost anger on her face.

"NO!" I cried. But I knew she was gone even before I said it.

My father backed away and glared at me. "The pup has to go." He said.

"No, Twitchtip!" I heard a voice cry. Striker was running towards me. "Don't make her go, father! Don't." he said.

"Come, Striker." My father said, turning to march out of the cave. But Striker didn't move. "I said COME!" he said, and slashed his arm with his claw. It wasn't enough to really hurt him, but it was enough to make him follow. He looked sadly back at me.

I sadly watched the last living gnawer who cared about me leave. I was alone.


	8. Bleeding in Despair

After that meeting, I was banished for life. But I had no intention to leave the Labyrinth. I was not even full-grown yet; there was any number of things that could be waiting for me out in the Dead Lands or places like that. No, I couldn't leave. But where would I go?

I finally decided to escape to one of the caves near the Tankard where the Serpents lived. It was probably the last place any gnawers would look for me, but still, it was extremely unsafe. It was lucky I was a Scent-Seer and would be able to sense any approaching gnawers, or else I wouldn't have risked it.

It was a terrible life. I heard barely anything of the Labyrinth outside my cave, and I hunted very rarely. I couldn't let anyone spot me at it. I ate mostly fish from the Tankard near me, but a lot of them had been eaten by the Serpents when they weren't sleeping.

Part of me longed to go find Striker, to persuade him to come and stay with me here, but it would arouse too much suspicion. I hoped he wasn't becoming dad's slave, or worse, his mini-me, but there was no way to find out without revealing my presence. So I stayed put.

My meal that night consisted of a few rotted fish. I was starving, but I smelled gnawer troops marching near my hideaway day in and day out. Supposedly security measures had tightened even more. I guessed that the humans had done something else to anger the gnawers. Man, they were stupid. I still didn't like them any more than I did when I was a pup.

I laid down to sleep that night with perhaps the emptiest stomach I had had in a very long time. The fish had been all but inedible, their flesh was diminishing and their taste was terrible, not to mention their stench. I was beginning to hate being such a good scent seer; but I knew it would come in handy sometime soon. My sanctuary was becoming more dangerous with every passing hour.

But I was lucky. For another five years I stayed in my hideout, being extremely careful. It was going quite well, actually. I stayed out of sight and hunted only when I was sure it was safe. I was quite thin and not so big, but I was alive, and that was what mattered. Even after all that I had been through, I still wished to live. I was not ready to die yet. But then everything went downhill from the moment I overheard a conversation between two of the Labyrinth soldiers.

"Torchpaw!"

I awoke with a start. I had been suffering yet another dream regarding my mother's death. They haunted me all the time now. A gnawer was extremely close. I could smell him. He was calling to another one, whose scent mixed in with the other's within moments. I silently listened.

"Did you hear about the battle in Regalia? Of our success?" the first gnawer asked the second, called Torchpaw.

"Yes I did, Slashtail! We killed the king and queen!" Torchpaw rejoiced. "But doesn't their daughter Luxa remain? We did not manage to kill her."

"It doesn't matter. She's only about eight years old." Slashtail waved away this fact dismissively.

So the gnawers had finally managed to kill the king and queen of Regalia, a feat they had been trying to manage as long as I could remember. Well, at least we weren't weak.

"But we have lost some others, too." Slashtail said grimly. I listened even closer. Who had we lost?

"Really? I have not heard that! Who?" Torchpaw asked, sounding astonished.

"That general, Ripper, was killed. Along with his son, what was his name? Striker?" Slashtail replied. Then I stopped listening.

Well, I was glad my father was dead. It served him right for killing Swiftstep, Silvertoes, and most importantly, my mother. He had had it coming, and all I had to say was 'good riddance'. At least I would have no chance of running into him again.

But Striker's death…that was what made me saddest of all. I felt a deep remorse for not hunting him down and persuading him to join me in hiding. After all, he was my brother. But if he was fighting with dad, then he must have sided with him, and forgotten all about me. That made me terribly upset. _How_ could he have sided with him? Why didn't he run away as well? He knew how evil our father was; why had he stayed with him? This did not only make me upset, it made me angry. And there was the problem.

I was so mad! Striker had betrayed me, father had betrayed me, all those I had come to love in my lifetime had left me! I couldn't stand life any more! I clawed at myself, anywhere I could reach. I _longed_ to attack something, to kill something, but I knew it would reveal my refuge.

I was bleeding all over now, but I didn't care. My will to live was no more, I actually _wanted_ to die so I could go yell at Striker and the rest of my family for leaving me! I was all alone, and I hated it! There was no more reason for me to live, my life was pointless now. So why not commit suicide? It would actually do me good.

A scream of rage and fury escaped my throat when I had not meant it too. I immediately clapped my paw over my mouth and came to my senses. Who was I kidding? I didn't want to die; I hadn't lived a full life yet! And now I had ruined my chances with one little cry. What had I done?

I heard the gnawers react to my wail. I heard their feet pounding as they ran toward my cave. Oh no. I would either have to cower in the corner of my cave and let myself be killed, or else fight and flee for my life. I chose the latter. 

The first gnawer had reached my cave when I sprang out at it. It gave a start of shock, but then pulled itself together and lunged at me. It opened a cut on my shoulder, and I screamed in pain, but pounced back.

"It is the traitor, Twitchtip! She is in one of the Tankard caves!" the gnawer cried. I automatically smelled others rushing towards me. I had to flee, and quick.

I steered around the gnawer and made it to a path that forked. I wasn't sure which one to take. I smelled gnawers coming down one of them, but I couldn't tell which. But then I heard a roar behind me. One of the Serpents had awakened, and was coming at me. I had to choose, and quick.

I finally decided on the one to the right. It smelled the safest. I used my nose to guide me through the Labyrinth. I could no longer stay in the gnawer lands; I was perhaps the most wanted rat in the Underland. But where could I go?


	9. The Second Ecounter

I had been running for hours on end. I had exited the Labyrinth a short time ago, but I was not yet out of the gnawer lands. I could no longer smell those who had been pursuing me. But I was utterly exhausted.

I was now nursing a slash on my shoulder and a scratch on my cheek. I had run into trouble just before I exited the Labyrinth. A group of initiates in Gorger's army had caught my stench as I ran down a separate tunnel, and I went through a lot of pain to dispose of them. I didn't think I had managed to distribute any fatal blows to any of them; they were just unconscious. I'm a Scent-Seer, not a rager.

I seriously needed a place to rest. But it was so risky here. I had to take extreme caution to divert myself from the eyes of the gnawers that were all about. They probably didn't all know who I was, but it was best to be safe.

After a while I just couldn't take it any more. I needed to take a break, to relax. I was foaming at the mouth and my legs felt as if they could move no longer. I didn't pay much attention to where I was; I just wearily staggered into the first concealed spot I could find. I dropped down, chest heaving, onto the cold stone floor and curled up in a sleeping position. For most, it would be uncomfortable, but for all I'd been through, it felt like heaven. I was asleep within seconds.

"Someone's here. I can smell them."

That was the first thing I heard when I opened my eyes. Or perhaps it had been the cause of my awakening, I couldn't be sure. But nevertheless, I knew I would soon be discovered.

The voice that had spoken had been tough and masculine, but now a new voice spoke.

"Yes, I smell them as well. Look around, Snapjaw, look around."

But this voice brought back unpleasant memories. Memories of being a pup, wandering away from my mother when I had just awoken and encountering the exact same voice. It was the silky, smooth, persuasive feminine voice I remembered, although it was _much_ more intriguing than it had been all those years ago. Twirltongue.

I shuffled to the backmost part of my hideaway. I could smell the curiosity concealed in Twirltongue's emotion, but I also sensed excitement. Excitement to be finding her "prey", no matter what she would decide to do with them. But I wasn't about to let it be me.

Then I heard Twirltongue give a purr of satisfaction. "In here." She said to her companion. I gulped. She had found me. There was only one thing to do. I emerged from my hideout and faced the she-devil.

I nearly gasped in astonishment. Twirltongue looked _impressive_, far more than she had when she was a pup. Her silver fur was glistening and her smile was so stunning. It revealed her shiny white fangs. Her tail was curved perfectly around her back leg. I was intrigued and unimaginably terrified all at once.

Her smile automatically widened when I revealed myself. "Well, if it isn't Twitchtip. Just the gnawer I have desired to speak to." She purred, still smiling at me.

"You wanted to talk to me?" I said, surprised.

"Of course. All of this Scent-Seer excitement. You are so lucky. How I wish _I_ was one." She smiled, but with just the right amount of envy in it to get me going.

"Really? Most rats think it's a horrible power." I said, surprised.

She shook her head vigorously. "Oh, no. Not I. It is a wonderful privilege. Anyone who is blessed with it should be extremely grateful. Those who say otherwise are not your _real_ friends." She said seriously. She was probably right. I mean, what did those other idiots know? I was _way_ more powerful than them! They had no right to doubt me! I was a Scent-Seer, and proud!

I nodded. "You're right." I said. Maybe she wasn't so bad after all.

"Of course I am. I know you are special." She responded to my agreement.

I smiled. "Thanks." I said, a bit modestly.

"Would you like to meet some of my friends?" Twirltongue asked me, still smiling.. Of course I did. If they were as nice as Twirltongue, who wouldn't I want to meet them?

"Okay." She said. "Come here!" she called down the cavern. Four gnawers strode out of a cave. Strangely, they smelled ready to kill. But I told myself that that scent was probably still lingering on them from a few minutes ago, when they had believed me to be a threat. Surely they didn't think that now.

"Twitchtip, this is Snapjaw, Reekwell, Sheerstride, and Gushgore." Twirltongue said calmly, gesturing at the gnawers who were now standing behind her. "This is Twitchtip the Scent-Seer." She introduced me to them. They all gave nods of understanding, as did I.

"So, there has been something we've been longing to ask you for _so_ long." Twirltongue said, striding closer to me. She smelled excited. Well, she _was_ intrigued to be talking to _me_.

"What is it?" I asked interestedly. What could they possibly want to ask me?

"I'll have Snapjaw ask you. He has a way with words." Twirltongue said. Snapjaw came a little closer to me.

"So, Twitchtip," he began, staring closely at me. "How would you like to…oh, I don't know…DIE?"

The attack was totally unexpected on my part. Snapjaw had pounced on top of me and managed to pin me down. For a moment I believed myself trapped, but I managed to slip out, thanks to my swift and skinny figure. I began running for my life, smelling the thrill of Twirltongue's little band as they pursued me. _How_ had I not seen that coming? I knew what Twirltongue was like!

I ran and ran, and I soon exited the tunnels and entered the Dead Lands, but I didn't dare stop. I no longer knew if the gnawers were still chasing me or not; my sense of smell was too preoccupied with the scent of my own fear, sweat, and remorse that was strengthening with every pace.

Finally, after over an hour, I slowed. My strides got slower and slower until finally, I collapsed right where I had stopped. My eyes were closed and I was barely even conscious. I was sure it was the end for me; I had either ran myself to death or was about to be killed by Twirltongue's group.

"And just what do you think you're doing here?"

My eyes nervously snapped open.

Standing above me was a big, gray, mean looking gnawer with a diagonal scar straight across his face.


	10. Ripred

It didn't matter that I had been isolated from the rest of the Underland for years, because I still knew that I was looking into the face of Ripred the rager rat, the one who a lot of gnawers were terrified of

It didn't matter that I had been isolated from the rest of the Underland for years, because I still knew that I was looking into the face of Ripred the rager rat, the one who a lot of gnawers were terrified of. It was said that he was the deadliest thing in the Underland, especially when he performed his number one battle strategy, the spin. I was no sissy, but I was inot/i going to let him test it out on me. I got to my feet immediately.

"I'm running from—uh oh." I said. I heard feet pounding behind me and I quickly leapt to the side. So Twirltongue ihad/I been following me.

I smelled her anger, her exhaustion, as she began to pounce on me, but someone threw her off. I saw her in a surprised heap on the floor, staring at Ripred in astonishment. But she smiled her chilling smile and stood on her feet again.

"Ripred. How lovely to see you." She purred, staring at the big gray gnawer who was about a foot and a half taller than her. Ripred may have been stronger and tougher, but I knew Twirltongue had her own way of manipulating others. But apparently Ripred knew that.

"Twirltongue. I'm charmed." He said mockingly, rolling his eyes but never taking them off of the silver gnawer in front of him. I just backed off to the side, feeling lost. "So, how did you get Twitchtip to talk to you this time? Did you force her to, or just convince her?"

There was no need to ask how he knew my name. Almost everyone did. But how was he so sure that I hadn't just ran into Twirltongue along the way and she had just begun chasing me? It wasn't true, of course, but it was a possibility most would consider before jumping to the worst—or in Twirltongue's case, best—conclusion.

"It was actually quite easy." Twirltongue answered, smiling. "Twitchtip happens to be quite easy to mislead, even though I am quite positive she could smell the death preparations in out mind." She smirked, staring over at me. I scowled at her. I desperately wanted to attack.

"All I had to do was convince her that I was fond of her powers, and that everyone who wasn't were idiots. Quite simple, isn't it?" she smiled. Ripred snarled at her.

"Get out of here, Twirltongue." He growled, raising his lips so his razor sharp fangs were visible. But Twirltongue shook her head pleasantly, still smiling.

"I'm afraid I can't Ripred dear. You see, I have unfinished business to attend to. Twitchtip is not yet dead." She said. I was amazed that she could still keep that intriguing grin on her face while she was being stared down evilly by myself and Ripred. But nevertheless, she did keep it.

Ripred snickered. "What, are you saying iyou're/i going to kill her?" he laughed. Now Twirltongue lost her evil grin, and she looked angry. She smelled it, too.

"As a matter of fact," Twirltongue began, staring me down, "I am!"

She lunged at me and I jumped to the side to dodge the blow, but it never came. Ripred shoved her back and pinned her down, holding his claw over her heart.

"Give me one reason to, and I swear I will, Twirltongue." He snarled. "Don't doubt it for a second." He pushed his claws into her chest, not hard, but enough for me to smell the fear in her sweat, even though she wasn't showing it on her face.

But she suddenly slipped out of his grasp and began to run, but he clawed her back, leaving a nasty gash there. She howled in pain, and began lapping up the blood, and Ripred aimed a blow from his tail at her, sending her spinning out of the tunnel.

"This is not over, Ripred!" she cried down the tunnel as she ran out. Ripred glared at where she had disappeared for a second, and then swore loudly.

I nearly smiled in relief, but caught myself just in time. Ripred was not here to do my bidding, nor did I want him to. But I was so glad to be rid of Twirltongue.

To my complete astonishment, Ripred rounded on me, sporting an angry look.

"Why did you lead her here, you idiot? Why did you even talk to her?" he snarled at me. I was so taken aback that it took me a second to answer.

"I needed to get away! I had already been running from Gorger's soldiers, and then Twirltongue tried to kill me as well! What do you think I should've done, let her kill me? I need somewhere to go!" I shouted, with more force than I was aware of.

"Well, you're sure as hell not staying here, if that's what you were thinking!" Ripred roared back, matching my forceful monologue and adding on even more anger.

"I never asked to!" I shouted, getting angrier with every passing second.

"Well, leave!" he thundered, positioning himself to chase me out. I highly doubted that he would actually fight me, but he obviously didn't want me here. But then again, who wanted me anywhere?

"Fine!" I said, my voice wavering a little. I didn't want to break down in front of Ripred, but I felt so alone. So I just turned and ran out, not looking back until I was out of sight from Ripred. I kept running until I came to a river, and then I broke down. I hated the feeling of isolation, but I was sure it would never leave my presence. It had found the gnawer it wanted to torture, the one who was already suffering so much and feeling an abundance of pain. It was cruel how fate was always against the one who was in dire need of hope. I felt drained of every ounce of it.


	11. Living Alone

I sulked for hours on end, feeling a powerful sensation of dejection. iWhy/i had everyone I loved deserted me? What had I ever done to the world to deserve this much despondency? My vision blurred as the tears that were repeatedly falling from my eyes, and the rushing water of the river soon became indistinguishable for that coming from my eyes. Loneliness was perhaps the most extreme form of pain one could ever experience.

Eventually I picked myself off the ground and grudgingly found a place to sleep. I wasn't nervous about being snuck up on at all, though; there was a reason that the Dead Lands were called the "dead" lands. Dead is exactly what they were. And I hoped that I wouldn't be synonymous with it anytime soon. I just wanted my life to turn around.

For the next week I was in a practically comatose stage, not moving at all from my chosen position in the small cavern I had taken refuge in. Despite the fact that I was already painfully thin, I did not eat for that whole interval of time. I just couldn't find the strength to even stand up, let alone find myself a square meal. I drank out of a small puddle that was a few feet away from my little spot.

But the stabbing pains of hunger in my stomach eventually won the battle, and I got up and stabbed a couple of small fish to eat from the river. It got rid of the pains in my stomach, although I could've eaten more.

Gradually I became less slim, and I exercised myself more. Running seemed to clear my head, and I liked that. I spent a few hours each day running around aimlessly and my strength returned to me. Physically, I was fully okay, and mentally…well, I was getting there.

Nobody ever came near my cave, and I rarely smelled a single living soul, save the fish. I did occasionally smell some of Ripred's band a few miles away, but even I wasn't that good. I could only smell their presence, nothing else. They weren't coming for me, and that was all that mattered.

I soon came to prefer living this way to my Tankard cave. Here I could roam freely about, and I didn't have to hide my presence. The only minor setbacks were that I was getting sick of fish, and I still felt isolated. But it turned out that that wasn't so minor, because eventually, the insanity started.

I am one of those gnawers who need some kind of company to stay sane, and as I didn't have that, my sanity started slipping away. I began talking to myself, as if there were two beings in one Twitchtip.

"So, Twitchtip, what would you like to do today?" I would ask myself aloud every morning, skipping around my cave. My sense of self seemed almost nonexistent.

"Well, what choices do we have, Twitchtip? We can run, sleep, or eat. Quite an array of decision!" I would say, smiling freakishly.

And then there were those times when my sanity seemed completely lost, and I would mutter things that made absolutely no sense whatsoever.

"Oh no, I've lost my trousers! Must run off to find them!" That crazy statement escaped from my mouth one day, and I spent hours wandering around, looking for my "trousers". I now realize how stupid I was. Rats didn't even iwear/i trousers, let alone lose them!

"You forgot the cream sauce! You forgot the cream sauce! This just can't be right!" There was another stupid statement, which escaped me after eating a bunch of fish for breakfast.

And then I jumped into the river one day. "Look, fishies! I can swim like you guys!" I shouted, and I paddled away in the waist-deep water. It was lucky the current was weak that day. I even feel stupid now, admitting to be behind this bull crap. Psychotic would be an understatement. I was utterly demented.

I was amazed that I managed to survive, but apparently my survival skills were not blacked out by my psychopathic actions. I was still managing the necessary tasks. I fished, (though occasionally muttering nonsense to the fish, who obviously weren't comprehending a word I was saying), drank (though sometimes I choked on my water, and laughed about it afterwards), and ran (although I nearly always lost track of what I was doing, stopping at a completely uninhabited place and thinking I was surrounded by others). My scent-seeing abilities were also still functional, but thankfully no potential danger erupted.

But these insane periods never lasted long, and before anything completely delusional happened, I was sane again, and I sneered at myself for losing control. The problem was, the madness returned on and off, so I was left feeling like a normal gnawer one day, and a freak the next. What a life.

One of my better days found me lazing around by the river, eating fish and wondering, as usual, what I was going to do with my life. I couldn't ipossibly/i live there forever, could I? Someone would find me eventually, and it was doubtful that they would just leave a semi-insane, deranged scent-seeing gnawer alone in the Dead Lands.

I contemplated on weather or not to leave my little corner if contentment, to find somewhere to spend the remaining years of my life, which probably wasn't going to be much longer, anyway. I was wanted among gnawers all across the Underland, and with Twirltongue still alive, I was prepared to bet my tail that she would round up a band of followers and come looking for me. Besides, I had never intended this to be a permanent home, s why not go looking for one?

But I still wasn't nearly sane enough to ponder this for very long, so I just finished up my fish and curled up in my cave for a much needed nap.

--

Something was nibbling my tail.

That was the first clear thought I had after I had been unceremoniously jerked out of sleep. There was something _eating_ my tail.

Wearily I raised my head, letting my groggy sleep vision clear before I looked to see what was eating at my tail. To be honest, I wasn't that fussed. On those terrible days when I was mentally retarded, I had dipped my tail into the river countless times and let the fish nibble at my tail that this sensation already felt normal. I figured I was just doing it again.

But it was a moment before I realized that I was in my cave, not beside the river.

I sat bolt upright, and to my dismay, my utter, horrified dismay, saw a swarm of mites scrabbling out of a crack in the cave wall. A few of them were beginning to chew through the flesh on my tail!

Without thinking, without even planning my next move, I ran. I ran straight to the river and plunged into the icy water, just desperate to get away from those flesh-eating mites.

I hated swimming, hated the feeling of letting my body succumb in the cold liquid, but now, I felt like it was the smartest thing I had ever done. Those fish that I had feasted on each and every day were now having a feast of their own, on the mites that had wanted to feast on _me_. It was like a chain reaction; I eat the fish, the fish eat the mites, and the mites eat me. But I wasn't going to let the last part of the chain happen.

My fur was soon drenched, but by now I was sure all the mites had left my tail. I gingerly lifted it out of the water and examined it. At the very tip they had revealed bone and it was stinging horribly, but somehow the icy feel of the water helped diminish it. I couldn't—and wouldn't—stay in the water for much longer, though, so I slowly dragged myself up on the riverbank, chest heaving.

With a heavy heart I realized I could never go back to my cave, the only home I had really had in months. It would be too risky, what with the mites roaming around. I had to move on.

I fixed the knowledge of how to escape the mites in my mind. You never know; it might come in handy one day.


End file.
